


Afterimage

by Yourwritersblock



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Aged-Up Character(s), Amnesia, Angst, But today is not that day, F/M, Fluff, Ignores canon but is wedged between the first and second season, Is it slow burn if they were in love before Wally forgot?, M/M, Mystery, Non graphic violence, mention of non graphic child abuse, one day something will go right for these boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yourwritersblock/pseuds/Yourwritersblock
Summary: “Manhunter has already performed his scan.”“And?”“Kid Flash wasn’t harmed in any way during the process, but Manhunter can’t access any information from the last thirty two hours. There’s a wall surrounding a section of Wally’s memories Manhunter can't get around.”Dick twisted his arms over his chest, stamping down the white hot fury that flared at the fact that Bruce had completely ignored his protests. “So it was all pointless?”“Not exactly,” Batman responded, uncharacteristic uncertainty curling around the words. “The wall closes off much more than just the last day and a half. Manhunter says the area is big enough to contain years worth of memory, but a quick scan through what he could access didn’t indicate anything obvious that was missing. When Wally wakes up there’s a big part of his life he won’t remember, but we can’t predict what it will be.”----Dick would do anything to get Wally's memories back, even if that means hunting down a faceless being to the very edges of the earth.





	1. Flashbulb

**Author's Note:**

> Me, jumping into a fandom I haven't touched in years: Please, accept this humble offering.
> 
> Unbeta'd and inspired by  Shut Up  by Greyson Chance

Dick hiked his school bag over his shoulder as he ducked around a group of students and brought his phone to his ear. The dial tone cut to a cheerful voice warning people not to leave a voice note because it would never be acknowledged.

“Walls, I’m gonna kick your ass for not reading my texts,” he huffed, “I’m on my way home now, so I’ll be at your place at five.” He paused for a moment to slide into the limo Bruce always sent to pick him up and nodded at Alfred, who returned the gesture. “I’ll - I’ll see you then,” he murmured, nerves closing around his throat.

“Is today the day, Master Richard?” Alfred inquired from the driver’s seat.

“Uh,” Dick flushed, “yeah. Yeah, it is.”

After years of shoving his feelings for the other superhero away, Dick was finally going to be honest. His fears of rejection had been soothed by the way the seventeen year old had been looking at him the past few months, and Dick would have had to have been deaf, blind, and completely tactiley unaware to think his feelings weren’t being returned at this point. They’d been dancing around each other for so long it had almost turned into a dynamic, but Kid Flash wasn’t going to be around for much longer - at least not with Wally under the mask. Barry was slowing down, and Wally was only getting faster. Wally would be taking over as The Flash before the end of the year, and with Bruce taking Tim in, Dick was also considering moving onto a new mantle.

As a solo hero.

If that happened the days he spent with Wally at Mt. Justice would dissolve into nothing. If they didn’t resolve things now, they’d drift apart, never see each other… move on. But Dick knew he could never move on from Wally, so he needed to do this. He needed to tell Wally he loved him.

He hadn’t realized he’d opened the folder on his phone where he kept all the photos of him and Wally that had ever been taken, and his eyes refocused to see his thumb rubbing over a picture of Wally’s sleeping face. This one was a couple months old. Dick had broken his wrist in a mission gone wrong, and Wally had refused to leave him alone. He’d passed out on Dick’s bed sometime after five in the morning after checking and rechecking Dick’s wrist. Even asleep, the speedster moved around like his life depended on it, and Dick smiled down at the rare moment of peace he’d managed to capture.

“I’ll tell Master Wayne not to stay up for you,” Alfred said, and Dick’s head jerked up to stare at him.

“It’s not- It’s not like that,” Dick said, words tripping over themselves, “we’re gonna stay turbed tonight. It’s going to be completely-”

Whatever Dick was going to say was cut off as Alfred pulled in through the front gates of the Wayne Manor. Something caught his eye as it hung from the arch of the front door.

Not something. Someone.

Dick scrambled from the limo and sprinted to the entrance, heartbeat hammering in his throat as he slipped in a slick pool of blood. He landed hard on his backside and hands, and the world ground to a halt as he stared up at the person, horror bringing bile up his throat.

Wally’s body hung limp from where he had been strung up by the wrists. The graphic print on his yellow shirt was obscured by blood. Dick pushed himself to his feet and pulled out one of the batarangs he always kept on him, throwing the blade at the rope that held Wally in place. He sprinted under Wally before the weapon could slice through the fiber.

Puberty had hit Dick hard, and at fifteen he was already taller and more filled out that the wiry runner, but he still stumbled back as Wally crashed into him. He closed his arms around the other boy and clutched him close to his chest before dropping to his knees and laying Wally on the blood smeared porch tiles.

A faint heartbeat resonated in Wally’s chest, but Dick’s breath caught at how slow it was - barely faster than his own, when Wally’s pulse usually sat at over one hundred beats a second.

“Alfred,” he choked, “get help, please!”

He tore his eyes from the dark blood spatter on Wally’s face and searched for his butler. The older man was gone, probably into the house for medical supplies. Dick’s guess had been right, because Alfred appeared a second later with a first aid kid that put most surgery rooms to shame.

“I have contacted the league,” he said as he began cleaning away some of the blood, “we need to make sure moving Master West won’t do more harm than good before we take him to the League Headquarters. Dr Mid-Nite is on standby for us.”

Dick stared at him, ice welling in his lungs as he ran his hands along Wally’s side. He was at a loss as to what to do, and for the first time in his life, he felt completely _useless_.   

Alfred began listing Wally’s obvious injuries and Dick realized he was in communication with the League. Dick scanned his best friend’s body as Alfred spoke, focusing on every gash and tear. Wally’s throat had been slit, but the angle wasn’t right, and it hadn’t killed him. There was a hole in his chest, but the damage narrowly missed his heart. His lower arm had been shredded, but the major artery had been avoided.

“Wait,” Dick interrupted Alfred’s assessment, “they had three opportunities to kill him. Throat, chest, wrists. It would have been impossible for all of those to be non-fatal unless…”

“Unless whoever did this wanted Master West to live,” Alfred provided.

Dick nodded and scooped Wally into his arms, pushing past Alfred to get to the Zeta Tube in Bruce’s second office. He held Wally’s body close in the small space and tightened his shaking fingers around the boy as the familiar whir of the machine starting up rang in his ears. He realised a second too late he hadn’t received permission to get into HQ, and he’d probably end up sucked into the void of space.

Bruce must have anticipated Dick’s rash behavior though, because a second later Dick was falling into the main hall of the satellite. Dr Mid-Nite lifted the boy from Dick’s arms, and Dick watched as he bustled towards the med center. The Flash darted after the doctor, and it took a moment for Dick to notice most of the League members were huddled around him.

“What happened?” Batman demanded.

Dick ripped his eyes from the door Dr Mid-Nite had disappeared behind. “I don’t know,” he said, voice mechanical and quiet, “I got home from school to find Wa- Kid Flash strung up by his wrists from the roof tiles. He’s not in costume, which means somebody outside of the League knows his true identity. He was at our house, which means someone outside of the League knows our true identities as well.”

Batman set his jaw in a grim expression but said nothing.

“And he wasn’t self healing, so whoever did this to him probably pumped him full of something that nullifies that ability.”

“You get all that, Mid-Nite?” Bruce asked, and the doctor’s affirmation rang through a set of speakers. The other members had kept quiet, but their sudden concern sat like a layer of snow in the hall. The knowledge that several of the hero’s identities had been discovered was almost as disturbing as the sight of Wally’s broken body.

Dick glanced between them, and for the first time, he realized none of them knew what to do either. And he realized he was still in his school uniform, standing in the League’s HQ as _Dick Grayson_. Stifling silence closed around Dick until Batman cleared his throat and shattered it into a thousand pieces.

“Manhunter, can you scan Wally’s mind for any clues as to who the perpetrator is? If our identities are being leaked, then that is our first concern.”

Manhunter considered his words for a moment. “I cannot guarantee it would not harm Kid Flash while he is in this state. We must weigh the pros and cons.”

“Pros and cons?” Dick exploded. Several startled stares landed on him, but Dick brushed them off and glared at Batman. “If there is even a chance this is going to affect KF negatively, we are _not_ proceeding with this.”  

“Robin,” Batman snapped, “If we can catch this person before another hero in this team gets hurt, then we must consider everything we can do to achieve that.”

Dick glowered at him, anger and terror ripping at his insides.

“At any rate,” Manhunter interrupted, “I cannot do anything until Mid-Nite has cleared Kid Flash’s blood. If he does indeed have something in his veins suppressing his powers, it could affect my abilities as well. We have a few minutes to discuss this, we need not rush into anything.”

“Robin, contact the rest of your team and fill them in. I’m opening the Zeta Tubes for all of them.”

“Fine,” Dick ground out, knowing he was being dismissed from the conversation that decided what happened to the person he loved, but also knowing if he resisted he would only worsen the situation. He set his jaw and turned to the communications room. Bruce handed him a bag as he passed, and Dick snatched it from his mentor, scratching through the spare set of clothes as he walked. His fingers closed around a pair of sunglasses and he pushed them onto his face. He threw the bag onto a chair once he’d reached the comm room. Despite the blood drying on his school uniform, he needed to get in touch with the team before he sorted himself out.

A row of communicators sat on a table and Dick picked one up, listing the names and Zeta Tube numbers of everyone he wanted involved. The device connected to seven others.

“Robin,” Superboy said sharply, “what’s wrong.”

“It’s Wally. He’s hurt. You all have permission to come to HQ. Get here as soon as possible,” Dick said without acknowledging the barrage of questions and gasps that flooded over the line. He disconnected the call and walked back to the bag.

The flaking blood pulled at Dick’s skin as he tugged the shirt off. A wave of panic crashed over him as he stared at the red stained shirt, and he dropped it to the floor. Tears pricked at his eyes. Dick wanted to tear the person who had sliced Wally’s blood from his body into a thousand pieces. He yanked on the fresh set of clothes and headed back to the main hall for the arrival of the others.

It didn’t take long before Megan appeared, and a couple seconds after that the entire team was gathered around him demanding answers. Dick repeated everything he’d told the older members and gave them a rundown of Batman’s proposed plan. The team’s response was much the same as the Justice League’s - shock, anger, confusion, fear.

Roy exploded first, tearing away from the group and storming towards the med bay. Dick caught his arm and Roy twisted on him. “What the fuck, Robin? You’re okay with them - you think it’s a good idea for them to go rummaging around in Wally’s brain while he’s lying unconscious? I don’t know about you, but when Manhunter starts getting vague about the consequences of his actions I do _not_ find that reassuring.”

Dick tightened his grip around Roy’s wrist, digging his fingers into the archer’s skin. “Of course I don’t like this! But what is you storming in going to do? Get us thrown out! And then how are we supposed to be here for Walls?”

“Fine,” Roy hissed, wrenching his arm from Dick’s grip, “what’s your plan then, Boy Wonder?”

“I don’t really have one in momento,” Robin admitted, “but…. If we can stall Manhunter... Dr Mid-Nite is clearing out Wally’s blood, and once he’s poison free, he’ll self heal and wake up. Hopefully. It usually takes Wally a couple minutes to heal cuts and gashes and a couple hours to heal broken bones, but I don’t think we have to worry about the later, so if we can keep the League occupied for twenty minutes or so that should give Wally enough time.”

Kaldur hummed as he considered the plan. “Robin, I’m not sure Batman will buy any excuse we could come up with to waste their time when the secret identities of the entire League could be at risk. And if Wally has internal damage we could be looking at a lot longer than twenty minutes.”

Dick dragged in a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was building at the base of his skull and the only person he actually wanted to talk to at that moment was currently being stitched together in a space hospital. “You’re probably right, Aqualad. Maybe if we approach Manhunter he can be more specific about the risks and we can all feel a bit more whelmed knowing exactly what’s happening.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Batman said, and even Dick, who had become used to Bruce’s silent entrances flinched at his unexpected voice.

“What do you mean?” Conner demanded.

“Manhunter has already performed his scan.”

“And?”

“Kid Flash wasn’t harmed in any way during the process, but Manhunter can’t access any information from the last thirty two hours. There’s a wall surrounding a section of Wally’s memories Manhunter can’t get around.”

Dick twisted his arms over his chest, stamping down the white hot fury that flared at the fact that Bruce had completely ignored his protests. “So it was all pointless?”

“Not exactly,” Batman responded, uncharacteristic uncertainty curling around the words. “The wall closes off much more than just the last day and a half. Manhunter says the area is big enough to contain years worth of memory, but a quick scan through what he could access didn’t indicate anything obvious that was missing. When Wally wakes up there’s a big part of his life he won’t remember, but we can’t predict what it will be.”

“Is he healing yet?” Dick asked.

“His body has basically already patched itself up, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Artemis had been quiet until that point, but she grimaced at the words. “Can we go see him? Wally isn’t the biggest fan of waking up alone in strange environments.”

“Of course,” Batman said. Dick pushed past him and could hear Roy a split second behind him as he bolted for the med bay.

None of the others were far behind, and Megan dragged all the chairs in the room to surround the bed with a flick of her wrist as soon as she flew through the door. Zatanna pushed Dick into the seat closest to Wally’s face, and Dick pulled his feet onto the cushion as he stared at his best friend.

Wally’s face was pale, cheeks flushed and feverish, eyes darting rapidly under his eyelids, but he was very much alive, and a tremor started working its way through Dick’s body. He reached a hand out to rest his fingers against Wally’s shoulder, and the heat sinking into Dick’s fingertips was so different from the slick cold that had covered the boy earlier that Dick felt tears burning at the backs of his eyes for the second time that day. Had he really only found Wally an hour ago?

“C’mon, Wallman,” he muttered, “open your stupid eyes.”

Bruce’s words were swirling through his mind like oil. If it was nothing obvious to Manhunter, it was possible Wally had shut away his childhood, or school life, or a million other things that were ‘inconsequential’ to Wally being Kid Flash, but very consequential to who Wally was as a person. He shook the thought away. If Manhunter hadn’t deemed it to be obvious or important, it probably wasn’t.

What was important was Wally waking up, so Dick could press their lips together and tell him _exactly_ how he’d been feeling since he was thirteen.    

Nobody really said anything, and other than M’gann’s gentle reassurances and the clock ticking away steadily on the wall, the room was silent. Dick spent a few hours watching the febrile blush fade from Wally’s skin, and the next few committing the rhythm of Wally’s breathing to memory. More time passed as Dick focused on the barely perceptible white line lingering around the base of Wally’s neck.

Somehow eleven hours slipped by, and Wally was still locked deep in his pseudo coma. By this point the team had spread themselves out around the room. Dick had yet to move from Wally’s side, and he sat with his upper body sprawled against the hospital bed, tapping out the tune to Wally’s favorite song against the other boy’s wrist. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, so Dick felt more than saw Wally stir from his sleep.

Wally’s body twitched almost imperceptibly, and Dick’s gaze shot up to meet Wally’s green eyes. “Uh,” Wally said, voice bogged in the same confusion swirling in his slightly unfocused stare. Dick felt frozen under Wally’s attention, and relief in a way he’d never known it surged through him.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, voice trembling. He lifted his hand to press it against Wally’s neck, suddenly desperate to feel the other boy’s pulse beneath his fingers, even though they’d spent the last eight hours on Wally’s wrist.

“Wally!”

Dick flinched at M’gann’s exclamation and he yanked his hand back. Somehow he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room.

“Megan!” Wally replied, eyes lighting up in recognition. His voice pulled the other’s from their sleep and suddenly the entire team was converging on their injured partner.

“I’m fine,” Wally said over the jumbled questions being thrown at him. He grimaced as he pushed himself into a sitting position, but the pain seemed to fade quickly enough as he stretched out. His usual grin slid onto his face and he leaned forward onto his knees. “What hit me this time?”

The team looked to Dick for the explanation, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Wally, because the person he loved was alive and smiling, and the last twelve hours already felt like a distant memory, _because Wally was right in front of him_.  

Roy scoffed at Dick’s inability to focus on anything but the curve of Wally’s vibrant smile, and even Artemis rolled her eyes. Dick’s feelings for Wally were somewhat of an open secret in the team, despite Dick’s attempts to keep them under wraps, and it was obvious they found his sudden fixation with the boy in the hospital bed funny.

“Hello?” Wally interrupted the sudden pause in the conversation.

“Right,” Kaldur said, “you were found injured in front of Batman’s house and brought to the League Head Quarters-”

“We’re in space right now?!”

“But it seems some of your memories are sealed off, so although Martian Manhunter tried to establish what happened we are still unsure.”

“Huh, yeah, I can’t remember anything past sneaking out of math class yesterday,” Wally said, screwing up his face in concentration before his eyes blew wide, “Wait, Batman’s house? As in where his civilian identity lives? The civilian identity that should in no way be linked to me or known by our enemies? Wait, was _I_ in costume when I was found?”

Kaldur’s grim expression had Wally frowning. “Yikes, okay, that’s not great info to wake up to.”

“Agreed,” Conner said, “Superman pulled me aside earlier to say the League has a few leads and several informants have mentioned that none of our civilian names are floating around the criminal grape vine yet, so whoever attacked you doesn’t seem very keen on sharing, but the situation is still pretty bad.”

Surprise sparked in Dick’s chest. Had Superboy shared this information with any of them yet? Nobody else seemed to be caught off guard, but Dick couldn’t even recall Conner leaving the hospital room at any point.

Wally scrubbed at his face. “Well, at any rate, whoever it was must’ve had me out for a while.”

“You’ve been unconscious for half a day, Kid Mouth,” Artemis said, “If you ever scare me like that again I’ll kill you myself.”   

Wally’s smile slipped. “Only twelve hours? How’d we get a new member in twelve hours? Usually Bats takes longer than that to pull in new people, even in these kinds of emergencies.”

“What are you talking about?” Roy asked when it became obvious nobody knew what Wally was talking about.

“Uh, the new guy?” He said, thrusting a thumb at Dick, who was still sitting by his side. “You guys gonna introduce us or?”

There must have been a breach somewhere in the hull of the satellite, because the air from Dick’s lungs was sucked into the void of space, and by the blank expressions on his teammates’ faces, he wasn’t the only one who suddenly couldn’t breathe.

The not “anything obvious” that Wally couldn’t remember was Dick.

Dick’s brain started sprinting through the implications of what that meant, but the realization that Wally had _forgotten him_ was ringing in his ears and closing its fist around his throat.

“Wally,” Miss Martian said, agony dripping from his name, “Robin is-”

“Yeah,” Dick cut her off, “I’m new. I’ve been training with Batman for a while and when he realized your attack meant none of the League’s identities were safe, he thought I’d be a good asset in figuring it out. Code name Robin.”

“What-” Roy started, but Miss Martian cut off his question by creating a mind link between everyone except Wally, and asking one of her own.  

_Why are you lying to Wally?_

_We don’t know what telling the truth could do to him. At the very least he’ll panic, at worst any memories of me he has that have been sealed away could have some kind of fail safe around them. Trying to recall them might destroy them permanently._

_I don’t agree with this-_

_No, Speedy-_

_Don’t call me that!_

_-I do agree with Robin, we should not make any rash decisions when we do not yet know the consequences_

_Kaldur, If he finds out later we lied to him…._

_He’ll understand why we did, Zee_

_Look, guys-_

“So,” Wally said, unknowingly cutting through their argument, “Do I get to know your real name? I’m Kid Flash, by the way. Wally West to my classmates.”

 _We’re not telling him the truth, end of discussion,_ Robin sent to his teammates before focusing back on Wally. “Nobody has ever gotten my real name, so I’m gonna pass on that.”

It was a lie, because Wally had known him as both Robin and Dick Grayson. But he was the only one, and now he’d forgotten. Panic shot through Dick’s chest again, and he swallowed before it could surge up his throat and choke him. How had everything gone so wrong? Right now Wally and him were supposed to be planning their future, but instead they were here, in a place where Wally didn’t even know they had a past.

 “I’m going to inform the League you’ve woken up,” he spat out through the acid in his mouth. Dick fled the room, trusting the others to follow his order to keep their mouths shut.

  
  
  
  
  


  


	2. Darkroom

The cafe was small and full of mismatched furniture in the way that every building in Keystone seemed to be. Dick had found the target twenty minutes ago outside Wally’s school, and he’d trailed the potential threat into the coffee shop. While it felt wrong to be tracking someone outside of Robin’s disguise, a cape would probably have been too obvious for this particular mission.

Dick scanned over the info Batman sent him as the mark stood in line. Mason Berkeley, seventeen, average marks in everything except the sciences, born in Keystone, but only recently moved back after growing up in some nowhere town in Ohio. The boy was pretty unremarkable by all standards, but his fingerprints _had_ been found on Wally’s neck and arm after the attack two days ago.

Mason dug through his pockets for money before joining the line, and Dick used the moment to catalogue a few small bruises littering the boy’s hand. Dick was honestly surprised Batman had authorised his part in tracking down the few leads they had, considering the older man had benched him every time his identity had been suspected of being exposed in the past. This time it wasn’t even a _suspected_ breach, but he was still on active duty.

Wally, on the other hand, had been taken off missions ‘until further notice’. He’d also been moved to Mt. Justice full time after an inspection of his childhood home indicated he’d probably been snatched from there.

Which is why Dick hadn’t been back to the hideout.  

“Walls,” a voice said, dragging Dick’s attention away from his darkening thoughts, “I know you suck at looking at your phone ever, but you haven’t answered my messages since Tuesday so if you don’t get back to me asap I will be breaking into your house later. Anyway, I took down notes for you in Chem, so I’ll email those to you in a few hours. Bye, loser.”

Dick angled himself against the wall he was leaning on to get a better look at Mason. Wally had never mentioned the name, but it seemed like they were pretty close. Mason pushed his dark curls away from his forehead and took his place at the front of the queue.

“Sup, Mace,” the barista greeted, “Wally still not getting back to you?”

“Nah,” Mason said, “He hasn’t been in school since Tuesday either. I’m worried his dad-” He broke himself off. “Anyway, if he doesn’t get round to me soon I’ll just drop by later to make sure everything’s okay.”

The barista chewed on her lip. “Wally hasn’t mentioned his dad lately, so I was hoping things…”

Dick’s brow creased behind the frames of his sunglasses. Wally’s dad? He scoured his memory for Wally ever mentioning Rudy around him but came up blank. Whatever they were talking about didn’t sound good though, and Dick made a note to ask The Flash about it as soon as-

“But, I heard you were planning on asking him on a date,” she continued, expression turning salacious.

Dick’s train of thought screeched to a halt as Mason’s cheeks flooded with colour.

“Uh, uh yeah. I feel like we’ve been clicking really well so.”

“I’m sure all the times you’ve seen him shirtless haven’t influenced this decision at all.”

“That’s- ug remind me why I keep coming here again?!”

“Because I’m your sister and you get my employee discount on your caffeine water.”

The two dissolved into a friendly squabble, but Dick phased out their conversation, eyes trained on his comm device where Mason’s life story was still displayed. Mason and Wally were ‘clicking really well’, but Wally had never even mentioned him. He’d told _Mason Berkeley_ about his family, but carefully avoided the subject whenever Dick brought it up. Dick, his best friend. What else hadn't Wally told him? Didn’t Wally _trust_ him? Had he just imagined the way Wally looked at him when he thought the younger teen wasn’t looking? Was Wally actually interested in some nobody from nowhere?

Burning jealousy flushed through Dick’s veins and he shoved himself away from the wall, cutting through the queue to get out of the store. He ignored the affronted protests that followed as he reigned in the fire burning through his blood and shoved open the front door. _Not a threat_ , he typed, setting his jaw as he sent the message to Bruce. Mason was just some spineless kid, he’d never be able to take the Flash’s protege down without a good few injuries of his own.

He’d stormed all the way down the block by the time Mason’s concerns pushed into his mind. His deliberate steps slowed to a standstill. It was probably nothing, but Dick couldn’t shake the feeling that it was _something_ , and he fiddled with the emergency communicator in his pocket before making up his mind and slipping it into his ear.

“Flash,” he muttered, and the communicator connected them. The Flash’s answer sounded like it was coming from the wing of a plane.

“Robin? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, cringing slightly at the panic in the older hero’s voice, “I just wanted to ask about Wally’s dad.”

The wind tunnel cut to silence. “Rudy?” Flash asked, “Why?”

“No reason,” Dick lied, “I’m just worried with Walls staying by the cave his parents will really miss him. He always said he was close to his dad.”

“He said that?” The surprise was evident, and Dick wondered if the lie was too unbelievable. “Well, I guess they could be… Wally’s never spoken to me too much about his parents, but whenever I’m there for family stuff they always seem to get along. I’m sure Rudy and Mary will be fine without him though, since they’re used to him being out of the house.”

“Okay,” Dick said, “just wanted to make sure things wouldn’t be harder on Wally then they already are.”

“Yeah, but he’s a tough kid. My biggest concern is what happens when he remembers,” Flash muttered, “He’ll hate himself for forgetting you, and all the trauma will finally hit him.”

“Yeah,” Dick said again. He paused for a moment before continuing, thoughts a million miles away. “Thank you, by the way, for convincing the League that it was best to keep Wally in the dark.”

“I’d do anything to protect my nephew.”

Brittle silence settled into the conversation and Dick cleared his throat. “I know. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing then.”

Dick hung up, but even with the Flash’s reassurance, Mason’s concern clawed at his mind. He heaved a sigh and headed for the nearest Zeta Tube. If he wanted to look into this, he’d need his laptop, and the League’s ignorance.

The nearest tube was only a few minutes’ walk away, and as he stepped into it, Dick swallowed his need to go to Mt. Justice before he could screw up two days of careful avoidance. Instead, the tube spat him out into Bruce’s office, and he crept up to his room before Alfred could intercept him and insist on unnecessary things like _food_ and _sleep_.

His room looked the same as it had the last time he’d been there, three days ago, down to Wally’s discarded shirt on the floor. Dick stared at the fabric for a moment before tossing it onto his bed and settling down in front of his laptop.

He opened Central City’s Hospital records in a program that the government would definitely frown upon as he yanked his mind away from the idea that Wally’s things were still in his room because _Wally_ had been in his room less than a week ago. The feeling of Wally’s fingers ghosting over his own shivered through Dick, and he ignored the sensation as he pulled up Wally’s records from the last five years.

Wally had only been to the hospital twice. Once for a stomach bug, and once for an eye infection. Kid Flash had experienced far worse, but his healing meant he didn’t have to seek medical attention every time he jumped into a questionable situation.

The chair creaked as Dick leaned back against it. He stared at the two records until the words blurred with his vision. What was he even doing? The Flash would know if Wally’s dad had been hurting him, and he’d said everything was kosher. So why was something _Mason Berkeley_ said twisting Dick up so much?

But Dick trusted Robin’s instincts, and Robin was screaming that Mason knew something he didn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward until his face was pressed into the heels of his palms. His hands spasmed in their need to reach out to Wally, and Dick clenched them before turning back to the records. He typed in the years spanning Wally’s life before his carefully staged ‘accident’, and seventeen results popped onto the screen.

“What the…?” Dick’s voice trailed off as he scanned the reports of fractured bones and concussions.

He scrambled to open another program that the government would no doubt also like to know how he’d gotten a hold of, and typed Wally’s full name into the Child Protective Services database. Several children with the same name came up, and he scrolled through the reports until he found one linked to _his_ Wally.

It detailed a visit from the CPS after Wally had been delivered to the emergency room at the age of eight with three cracked ribs and enough bruising and swelling to be barely recognisable. The report ended with the words: REASON FOR INJURIES - CAR CRASH. CASE CLEARED.

The Wests had had the same soccer mom van since before Wally was born, and it was still in perfect condition.

Static rang in Dick’s ears as the words ran through his mind on a loop. He wanted to scream, but the sound lodged in his throat, smothered by anger, and horror, and emotions that shot through Dick at such a speed they left him shivering.

Did this mean Wally's dad was the one who- no, that made no sense. Rudy's abuse had flourished in secrecy. What would he achieve by advertising it? And he was singularly the most ordinary man Dick had ever met. There was no way he had the abilities or connections to seal of Wally's memories, and it was more than a little impossible he could have gotten his hands on whatever ability suppressing serum had been pumped into Wally's bloodstream. Rudy wasn't the one who'd done this, but that didn't mean the man hadn't-

Wally had been living with this for years, and he’d never said anything. Not to Dick, not to his uncle. Not the dozens of people who could have _helped_ him. What had Wally had to survive, _alone_?

The last two days suddenly surged over him, and the exhaustion, and terror, and earth-shattering loss splintered through Dick’s veins. He felt each shard tearing through him in places people could never see, because Wally had been suffering, and Dick’s only thought was _I love him, and he couldn’t even open up to me about this_.

Disgust washed through the selfish thought, and Dick tore himself away from it before he could make any of this about himself.

A knock rapped out against the door and Dick flinched, slamming his laptop shut. He tried to call out to the person to come in, but the careful compartmentalization he’d always clutched so closely began cracking in his stranglehold, and the words caught with the breath in his chest. He’d always forced himself to only focus on one thing at a time, one problem at a time.

But Wally had forgotten him, and Wally was injured, and Wally was suffering broken bones and concussions at the hands of his own father, and Dick couldn’t separate any of that.

Dick didn’t realize how the oxygen was sprinting through him until a hand planted itself between his shoulder blades and pressed his face between his knees.

“Breath,” Bruce growled. Dick tried to comply, but his chest expanded at the rate of his racing thoughts and he couldn’t slow down. Bruce dug his fingers into Dick’s spine and dropped down into a crouch next to him. “Tell me three things you hear.”

“Your voice,” Dick gasped, “my breathing. The grandfather clock in the hall.”

“Three things you see.”

Dick pried his eyes open, not even realising they had been screwed shut, and scanned the ground. “My shoes, the texture of the carpet and the power cable for my laptop.”

“Good,” Bruce said. “Now tell me about three things you feel.”

“Your fingers tangled in my shirt. The room is warm. My chest hurts from hyperventilating.”

Bruce lifted his hand from Dick’s back but didn’t stand up, and when Dick straightened, he locked eyes with the older man. The circles smudged under Bruce’s eyes indicated that he wasn’t handling the situation much better than Dick, and Dick grimaced at how his father figure had to come to his rescue despite looking like he needed some rescuing himself.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, “A little. I can definitely tell you I’m not feeling the aster though.”

The corners of Bruce’s mouth lifted, and Dick returned the tired smile. “What set this off?”

Dick’s muscles locked as he thought of the hospital reports. Saying something could have consequences he couldn’t even conceive at that moment in time, and Wally had never confided in any of them, so he clearly didn’t want them to actually know. Not saying anything felt like throwing the person Dick loved to the wolves. The options circled each other, snapping at each other’s throats and leaving Dick unable to think.

“I knew you’d take Wally forgetting you hard,” Bruce continued without waiting for an answer, “but I’ve never seen you like this. Even after I took you in. I think you avoiding him is doing far worse to you than it is good.”

The comment was unexpected, and Dick pulled away from Bruce’s slightly-less-blank-than-usual stare. “It’s not,” he said, “If you think this is worse than being with Wally _while he looks at me like I’m a stranger,_ I clearly haven’t communicated my feelings to you properly.”

Bruce swept a calculating gaze over Dick. “Okay, I’m going to put it this way. You will go, right now, to see Wally, or I’m pulling you from the next lead I have.”

Dick snapped a glare in his mentor’s direction. “Are we really going to resort to threats?”

“Unfortunately,” Bruce said evenly, “I learned a long time ago that little else works with you when you set to mind to something.”

“Fine,” Dick countered, setting his jaw, “but I only have to stay as long as I see fit.” If he couldn’t catch whoever had done this to Wally, then he was useless to the Speedster, and the Wally who remembered Dick would hate to see him like that.

“Okay.”

The standoff lasted for a few more seconds before Dick snatched his sunglasses off the desk and pulled his leather jacket from the back of his chair. He threw one more irritated glance at Bruce and headed back to the Zeta Tube he’d travelled through just half an hour before.

He was almost tempted to beam somewhere - anywhere - other than the cave, but the older Bat always seemed to know exactly when Dick ignored his direct orders.

The computer at Mount Justice announced his arrival to an empty hall, and Dick headed directly towards the kitchen, because Wally had only forgotten Dick, not himself, and Dick knew him too well to think he’d be anywhere else. He stepped into the lounge that looked over the kitchen island and stopped.

Wally was on the couch. Fast asleep, chest rising and falling at its typical not-quite-human speed, tucked up against Superboy’s side. Conner also looked like he was drifting off. The back of his head was resting against the back of the couch, and his eyes seemed to be staring at something far past the ceiling as he twirled Wally’s red curls between his fingers.

“Looks cozy,” Dick dead panned.

Conner’s head lifted lazily to look at him. “Heard the Zeta Tube drop you off, but I assumed you’d come to sulk in your room and keep ignoring your best friend.” His voice was tinged with agitation and Dick instinctively glanced at Wally. Conner followed his gaze and tugged at another copper curl. “He’s heartbeat is so steady we could hold a strip show in here and he wouldn’t stir.”

“If Megan couldn’t remember anything about you, would you want to be around her?”

The other boy’s mouth twisted into a frown, but he changed the subject as Dick collapsed onto the opposite couch. “Have any of the leads panned out yet?”

“So far, I’ve spent a day turning Wally’s house over, and a few hours following a harmless school kid. So no. It’s very not optimal. Timal, if you will.” Dick’s voice was louder than he had intended in his exasperation, and Wally twitched and turned his nose further into Conner’s stomach. “How’d that even happen? Wally’s cuddly, but he’s not this cuddly.” _Except when he’s with you_ , Dick’s traitorous brain provided, _and he somehow ends up on top of you every time he stays over despite you owning a king sized bed_.

“No idea,” Conner said, “I came to check on him because I could hear him muttering from the other side of the cave. Whatever nightmare he was having stopped when I was nearby so I thought it would be a wise decision to sit down. At this point nobody could convince me this kid isn’t part octopus, because he latched onto me the second I was close enough to grab. It reminds me of how he used to be with you.”

“Do you think he’s remembering?” Dick asked a little too quickly, the real question hanging in the air between them.

Consideration splashed across Conner’s face. “I think his body is. He keeps flinching whenever Megan or Artemis raise their hands, but when Kaldur asked about it, Kid got all defensive. I think he remembers being hurt at some level, but he can’t recall any of it.”

Dick’s nails bit into the palms of his hands from how tight he was balling his fists. “Has he had the same reaction to you or Kaldur? Or any of the other guys who have been through here?”

“No,” Conner said, before clicking into Dick’s meaning, “Robin, do you think his attacker was female?”

Dick’s grim expression was all the answer Conner needed, but as he opened his mouth to respond, Dick saw shock flutter across his features, and Conner’s eyes shot down to Wally.

“What’s wrong?”

Conner pushed two fingers to Wally’s throat, and Dick jumped to his feet, anxiety bursting like camera flashes behind his eyes at the panic on the other boy’s face. He moved across the room in a blur and dropped down to his knees next to the couch, swatting Conner’s hand away. His alarm flushed away as Wally’s rapid pulse echoed against his fingertips.

“What was that?” Dick demanded.

“I-” Conner faltered, “I can’t hear his heartbeat anymore.”

The pulse vaulting through Wally’s arteries didn’t falter under Dick’s hand, but at Conner’s words Dick dropped his ear to the Speedster's chest. Wally’s heartbeat shot through Dick’s mind like the gun at the starting line, and Dick looked up at Superboy with his brow knitted together.

“What are you talking about? I can hear and feel it. Wally’s fine.” But despite being manhandled, he hadn’t woken up, and Dick could see the same realisation reflected in Superboy’s eyes.

“Fuck,” Conner spat, and Dick jerked back as the other hero pushed Wally into a seated position and slapped him.

Wally gasped awake at the impact, as though he’d just been forced to release a breath he’d been trying to hold.

“Wha?” he asked, bleary and disorientated, posture awkward, as though he were being held up by a puppeteer's ropes.

Dick tore his eyes away from the man he loved to look at Conner. Superboy’s face was pale and drawn, and he sucked in a breath of his own before nodding to Dick. A silent reassurance that Wally’s heartbeat was no longer silent.

The green of Wally’s eyes cleared. “Dude, why?” He yawned, “if you wanted to get me up you could have just woken me up like a normal person.”

The reaction was too far removed from what had just happened, and Dick’s expression darkened. Wally’s dad and Wally’s memory were quickly becoming the least of his concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and unedited so please feel free to point out any mistakes~
> 
> I'd love to hear where y'all think this is heading!
> 
> ((Also let Bruce be a Good Dad))


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